The Thing About Emily
by IMAC11
Summary: Series of prompts my friend gave me, starts out around Doyle arc and will carry on until I run out or even longer! She needed him and he needed her. But everything isn't what it seems in the game of love, and navigating it is difficult, especially when you're alone. Two people find that they aren't alone, and together, they might just make it.
1. Complicated

A/N: So my friend gave me this list of Promts and as I read them, I realized they fit in to the Doyle Arc PERFECTLY! So yeah, its an 87 prompt list, so this will probably be a multi chapter fic, however chapters will only be about 750-1,200 words, and I apologize, but I will try WAY harder to update more. As of now, this and 'On the Inside' are my main priorities, but with summer coming up I'll probably update a bunch. So yeah, this will carry out through the Doyle thing, and I will be changing things from time to time, but I will notify you guise. thanks for all the support, and I hope you enjoy!:)

* * *

Emily Prentiss stared at the wall of her bedroom, and then back to the alarm clock. It was too early to be up, she didn't have to be in to work for another six hours. She looked back to the wall. Clock. Wall. Clock. Wall. It was a new pattern that Emily found herself in. She didn't want to think about the things on her mind, after all, she shouldn't be thinking like that in the first place. Emilly always found her thoughts drifting off to her Unit Chief, Aaron Hotchner. She felt horrible about it, he had enough to worry about besides her school girl crush she had on him. No. Emily corrected herself, it was deeper than that. It was w_ay _deeper than a stupid crush. She loved him. She hated herself for it every day, after all, she had so many secrets she kept from him, he didn't deserve that.

Emily pulled herself out of her bed and walked to her bathroom. Turning on her faucet, Emily splashed some of the water into her face, the cold droplets dripping down her face. She braced her hands on the sides of the sink and looked at herself in the mirror. Emily sighed and began to undress. She looked back up to the mirror and laughed to herself. She had lost a little weight. Which, for her, was unusual for her already thin body. Emily ran her hands over the expanse of her stomach, feeling the bones of her hip and muscles on her stomach. At least it was replaced by muscle, and she wasn't just withering away. She turned the water on hot and stepped in, letting the hot water cascade down her back, searing the skin, but not leaving a blister. Emily had learned that she actually liked the hot water. It gave her something else to focus on.

Emily shampooed and washed her body before stepping out onto the mat on the outside of the shower. She ringed her hair out and towel dried it until it wasn't soaking and hung in loose ringlets at her shoulders. She pulled on a new pair of shorts and a tank top and walked over to her bed. Emily looked down at her phone and saw two new messages. She opened one and smiled when she saw it was from Hotch. At least she wasn't the only one up at four o'clock in the morning.

~Hey, Emily. I'm going to go out on a whim and guess you are up as well?~

Emily chuckled, he hadn't been sleeping well either. Emily couldn't help but think about the similarity between the other agent and herself. God, she wished she could go over there and just sit with him, but, that would never happen. Emily had also learned with these feelings that she would never be able to act on them. Ever.

~I'd have to say you are correct, Hotchner...Nightmare?~

Emily typed her message in and hit send, lost in her thoughts about the brunette man on the other end of the text coversation.

~No, actually. This time I just couldn't go back to bed. I've already showered, and I'm close to being in my suit.~

Emily laughed that time. It was too early for him to be in a suit. Emily liked him more out of work. Don't get her wrong, she loved him anywhere, but she preferred the happy and laughing Unit Chief, as opposed to the stoic one she often saw at work. Emily relished the feeling of happiness that stemmed from the memories of spending a little bit of time with him and Jack.

~Too early for that, Hotch. I'm gonna try and go back to sleep.~

Emily pulled the covers up to her chin and rolled on her side. She shut her eyes and tried to relax, almost ready to give in when her phone vibrated again.

~Good luck, I'll see you at work. Night~

She smiled, her aggrevation gone at the message from Hotch. She hit the home button and saw the notification for a message pop up. Oh yeah, the other one. Emily tapped the message icon and pulled up the new message.

~Emily, call me as soon as you get up. Doyle's out, and he knows the truth.~

It was from Tsia. Emily froze, suddenly forgetting how to breathe. She stared at the screen for a few minutes while she re-learned her breathing skills. Ian was out. And she had no doubt he was going to be coming for her. It was only a matter of time before things just got...complicated.


	2. Making History

** I'm sorry for the wait on this chapter, but I guess I'm just nervous because this if gonna be a slow start and I don't want to disappoint everyone. I have a little trouble molding my ideas to canon, so some things may be a little off, and I apologize! If you have some advice, or suggestion, drop a line and tell me! I hope you guys enjoy it, and I'm already almost done with the next chapter:) I counted the prompts, and when I'm done, this should come down to 99 prompts with an epilogue :O We're here for the long haul. I pre-apologize for the slow updates that might happen, and I will now stop rambling! I hope you enjoy!**

* * *

Emily walked through he glass doors of the bullpen, her mind running a thousand miles an hour. What will she do about Doyle? Does he know where she is already? Should she tell? Her thoughts once again drifted to Hotch. She had to protect him, but how? Emily was so caught up in her thoughts she didn't see Morgan walking straight towards her. She felt herself run into his chest and stumbled back. Morgan caught her by her forearms and steadied her.

"Woah there, Princess. I didn't think I looked _that_ good ahead, take another look." he said playfully, gesturing down his body.

Emily hit him lightly on his shoulder, "Full of yourself much?" she said, walking with him to the break room for coffee.

"Seriously, though What's on your mind?" Derek asked, pouring a cup of coffee.

"Nothing." she said nonchalantly, pouring her own cup.

"You," he said, stirring sugar into his drink, "are a _terrible_ liar. Did you know that?"

"Awww, really?" she pouted, "I'll have to work on it." Emily responded, reaching for the packets of sugar.

Before she could get it, though, Derek snatched it out of her reach and wiggled his eyebrows. "You want the sugar, tell me what's up." he said, a smug smile playing on his face.

"Really? This is low. To deny me of my coffee how I like it." Emily said reaching out.

Keeping the sugar just out of reach he smiled back, "Ahh ah ah," he said, turning, "I'm waiting for an answer."

Just then, Hotch walked through the door, and grabbed two packets of sugar from Morgan without him noticing. Handing them to Emily, he winked at her and watched as she turned to Derek.

"Looks like you aren't gonna get it, Derek. I'm sorry." she laughed as she waved the two packs of sugar in front of Derek's face, "Thanks, Hotch."

Hotch nodded in return and both men watched as she left the break room.

"Not cool, man." Derek said, smiling at Hotch, "I almost had her."

"Don't interfere with the lady's coffee, next time you might not leave in one piece." Hotch said, chuckling as he left the break room.

"Spoilsport!" Dererk shouted so Hotch could hear him, laughing, he got his drink and went back to his desk.

Hotch had overheard the whole exchange between his two agents and allowed his mind to wonder to Emily. She wasn't usually like that, unfocused. No, something was up, and he had to find out. Hotch internally battled himself, why did he all of a sudden want to know about Emily? Well, he _is_ her boss, he reasoned. The other part of him laughed. It went deeper than that. There was more care there for her than just a supervisor, he wanted to help her as a friend. It was a nice thought for him, to have Emily as a friend. She always seemed to be there for him after Foyet and all, even though he treated her like trash when she first joined the team. He chuckled to himself. Him, Aaron Hotchner, with a friend.

Emily wandered back to her desk, and got out some files to work on. She quickly got in to her file mode and soon she found herself with only one file left.

"Prentiss?" she heard Hotch's voice ring out across the bullpen.

She turned and saw him motion her to his office. Emily slowly got up and walked to her superior's office. Once she was inside the small room, she shut the door and turned to the Agent in front of her.

"Did you need something, Hotch?" she asked hesitantly.

"Nothing's wrong, I just wanted to know if everything was alright with you." Hotch said, his eyes drifting across Emily's form. Her arms were crossed and she seemed to not meet his eye. She was defensive.

"I'm fine, I just was up early, as you know." she said, trying to brush it off.

"Morgan's right, you are a bad liar." he responded, smiling softly.

"Everything's okay, Hotch, really." Emily said, looking at him.

His features softened, "You can talk to me, Emily. I want you to know that." he said.

"Thanks, Hotch. It means alot." Emily told him, backing away. It was almost too much, she anted to cave to him, to have him hold her and tell her everything would be okay, but that wouldn't happen.

"You can go if you want now, Emily. I didn't mean to bother you." Hotch said, walking towards her. "I need more coffee anyway."

"No biggie. Thanks again." Emily said with a soft smile, before turning and walking down to her desk.

Emily looked down at her watch, it was time for her lunch break. She decided she'd call Tsia from the payphone in the parking garage. Thank god for those things. Emily walked over to her desk and pulled out her purse. Grabbing a couple dollars in quarters, Emily walked to the stairwell and began her descent down to the lower levels.

.oO0Oo.

"What do you mean he's out and he knows?!" Emily asked harshly, her knuckles white from the grip she had on the phone.

"Sean called and told me that Doyle escaped North Korea, and that there was a mole within our unit that leaked him info on everyone in JTF-12." Tsia explained, nervously twisting a curl of her hair.

"How did this happen?1" Emily asked, panic rising in her voice.

"I don't know! No one does, it's the first time something like this has been done. They suspect someone was helping him on the inside, most likely in connection wit the mole. God knows who else he has helping him!"

"Tsia, I need you to listen to me, okay?" Emily said, resting her head on her arm as she let out a breath.

"Okay, I'm listening." she said, taking a seat on the couch in her living room.

"You've gotta get out of there. Leave no trace and get back to the States as soon as you can. Get a disposable phone, and contact me when you're here. I'll call Sean and we'll figure it out."

"I-I will." Tsia answered.

"It'll be okay, I promise." Emily said, trying to comfort the other agent.

"Em, he's already a civilian, an-and he killed Jeremy. Please be careful." she responded, her voice filling with tears.

"Got it. I'll see you when you get here. Bye, Tsia." Emily said in a nearly heartless tone, trying not to break right there.

"Bye, Emily."

Emily hung up the phone, letting out a deep breath. What did she do now? Regaining her composure, Emily straightened her jacket and turned to go up the stairs. Opening the door to the stairwell, Emily made her way up to the third floor, walking back into the bullpen. Avoiding the stare of her supervisor, Emily took her seat at her desk and began her last file, Tsia's words echoing in her ear.

_No one knows. This is the first time something like this has been done._


	3. Rivalry

Heya guise! Here be the next chapter! I'd really appreciate it if you told me how you felt about this style I've been writing it, the whole kinda skipping around to main parts, I'm new to it, and any criticisms constructive or not, would be appreciated! I hope you enjoy, and I'm sorry if there's anything different or not what happened in canon, I'm sorta molding it around a little. Anyway, go on and read!

* * *

Emily had just layed down for bed when a shrill ringing sounded through her apartment. Rolling her eyes and grunting, Emily swung her legs over the bed and padded over to the phone. Picking up the object that had so rudely disturbed her sleep, she hit the button to answer and held it up to her hear.

"Hello?" Emily asked into the phone.

She was met with silence.

"Hello?" she called again.

Nothing.

"Uhm, I'm gonna hang up now..." she trailed off, unsure of what to say.

She heard soft breathing on the other side and stilled.

Removing the phone from her ear, she stared down at the blocked number. Emily hung up quickly, setting the phone in its dock, and going back into her room. Climbing under the duvet, Emily closed her eyes and layed down in hope of sleeping. Even though, she knew she wouldn't be sleeping for awhile.

.oO0Oo.

The next day, Emily slept in, after staying up all night, thankful it was a Saturday. She piddled around the house after taking a shower, trying to keep herself occupied, but nothing was really working. Sipping her mug of tea, her eyes skimmed over the newspaper, taking in the details of life in the DC area. After she had read the paper, (Twice. Including the ads. _And_ The Classifieds.) Emily decided to try and find something to watch on television.

Taking a seat on her couch, Emily began to skim through the channels absentmindedly stopping on a marathon of Monk. Emily would be lying if she said she didn't enjoy watching the detective bumble about.

Emily was brought out of her little Monk universe when a knock sounded on her door. Pausing the show with her remote, Emily stood up and walked over to the door. Looking through the peep hole, she saw nothing. Slowly opening the door, Emily looked back and forth down her hallway, before settling her eyes on her feet.

Emily bent over and scooped up the long and thin rectangular box, she walked back into her apartment, but not before casting a look over her shoulder.

Once inside, Emily slowly unwrapped the package, stilling when she saw what it was.

Her blood ran cold.

Inside the box, was a single purple lily.

Emily dropped the box and locked her door. Stumbling around her apartment she began setting things in front of any possible entry to her apartment. Satisfied with her work, Emily moved the side table in her foyer against her front door and set the vase that sat in the middle on the very edge, carefully balancing it so that any disturbance would knock it over, and wake her up. That is if she went to sleep at all.

Suddenly feeling a wave of sickness come over her, Emily made her way into her bedroom, and layed down. Opening the bed table drawer, Emily grabbed her glock and held it close to her. Sliding it under her pillow, Emily close her eyes and began to cry, fear and sadness dominating her brain.

.oO0Oo.

A loud knock woke Emily, and she nearly fell off of her bed from the startling sound.

Gripping her gun in her hand, Emily slowly walked through her apartment, carefully checking each room and each corner. Slowly making her way to her door, Emily gazed through the peephole and let out a breath when she saw who was on the other side.

Sliding the table back in it's place and putting the vase in its formal posistion as well, Emily opened the door, tucking her glock in the back of her pants.

"Hotch what are you doing here?" Emily questioned, motioning for him to come on.

"I needed to talk to you." he answered, carefully taking in all the noise traps Emily had set up.

"What time is it?" she wondered alound.

"Around seven-thirty." Hotch answered simply.

"Oh, I guess I thought it was later. Do you want some coffee? Or tea?" she offered, wandering into her kitchen, trying but failing to subtlely put things back in their place.

"Uh, tea would be fine."

"Have you been asleep?" he asked, taking in her state of dress.

"Oh, uh yeah, I guess I took a little, well I guess not little, nap." Emily returned, handing him a glass of Earl Grey tea.

"Ah I see." Hotch said, following her into her living room.

"Here, have a seat." Emily gestured to the couch, sitting at the other end.

"Thanks."

"What did you need to talk about?" Emily questioned, sipping her own tea.

"I wanted to check up on you. I know you say you're okay, but you've been acting weird lately."

Emily stiffened slightly, the action not going unnoticed by Hotch. "Just some personal stuff, you know?" she brushed it off.

"Emily, it's better to talk about it. I completely understand if you aren't comfortable with me, but the BAU's psychologist might be able to help you, you know?" Hotch told her.

"No, it's not that I'm not comfortable with you, its just that..." she trailed off.

"What, Emily?" Hotch asked, setting his tea down. His concern growing for the brunette agent across from him.

"I can't involve anyone in this." Emily said, setting her tea down as well.

"Why not?" he inquired.

"I just can't."

"How come you insist on facing this alone? Why don't you let someone help you?"

"I just c_an't _Hotch, you don't understand." Emily answered, feeling her patience running out.

"You can't or you won't?" he retorted, determined to get to her.

"You don't understand anything!" Emily threw back, her voice rising.

"Then help me to! Asking for help doesn't make you any less strong, it just means you're not in it alone! Let me in, Em!" he responded at the same level.

"I don't want you hurt! I don't want the team hurt! I couldn't forgive myself, you've got to trust me!"

"Emily, you're hurting us by keeping secrets!" Hotch argued, staring into her eyes.

"Fine! I'll tell you! But you've got to swear you won't intervene, or-or question what I do. Got it?" Emily finally gave in.

"I understand." he said quietly.

"So, a little while back, before I joined the BAU, I worked for the CIA, Interpol actually. We had a case, and things went south. I made an enemy, a rival, really, and now it's come back to bite me in the ass."

"Emily that's nowhere near the explanation you know I expect."

"I'm sorry, Hotch, I can't do it." Emily said softly, begging with her eyes for him to understand.

Taking her smaller hand in his, Hotch scooted closer to Emily, meeting her eyeline. "Emily, I'm not going to judge you or think any less of you, but I need to know this." Hotch pleaded softly, willing her to trust him.

"It's a long story, to get everything." Emily tried.

"Nice try, Em. I came here to figure out what's up with you, and I intend to see it through." Hotch said, a smile playing on his lips.

"Okay, okay, okay, same rules as before."

"I got it." he released her hand, allowing Emily to nervously rub her thighs.

"Well, like I said, before I came to the BAU, I was recruited by the CIA. It was my last year at Yale, actually, and they were drawn by my majors, and the linguistics only made them want me more. I was recruited about two weeks after I graduated. I did some shadowing for a few weeks, and was approached my my now ex-boss, Sean McCallister, and asked if I was willing to join a group on a mission. I, of course, eagerly said yes, ready to, I don't know, get in the action maybe?" Emily trailed off a moment, before catching herself and beginning again.

"The unit, called JTF-12, consisted of me, Tsia Moseley, Sean, Jeremy Wolff, and Clyde Easter. I was sent in by myself, on something I now know was something I wasn't prepared for, at all."

"Infiltration?" Hotch mused aloud, somewhat shocked that they would've sent her on something so difficult, so early.

"Yes." she answered, eyeballing him, and gauging his response.

"I'm sorry for interrupting, go ahead." he aplogized.

"It's okay, Hotch." she offered him a small smile.

"Anyway, my target was Ian Doyle," Emily paused, breathing in and closing her eyes, before exhaling and starting again, it was almost overwhelming, "He was an illegal arms dealer that we had to arrest. I went undercover as Lauren Reynolds, and my job was to get close enough to have him spill his secrets..." Emily trailed off.

"How close did you get?" Hotch asked, anxiously awaitng her answer.

"He uhm, he asked me to marry him." Emily scoffed, letting out a humorless chuckle.

"Oh." Hotch was momentarily stunned, a feeling he wasn't used to.

"He eventually let it out, and I sent the information to Sean, who in turn, arrested Doyle. He was sent to a prison in North Korea, and that's the last we heard of it. JTF-12 disbanded after that." Emily finished, looking at Hotch.

"I still don't understand, why did you say that your rival, which I'm going to assume is Doyle, is coming back to bite you in the ass?" Hotch asked.

"Well, you're correct. But, uhm, Doyle escaped." she answered.

"_What?_" Hotch said in disbelief.

"Yes, he escaped, and he's already killed one civilian. As well as one other." Emily said softly.

"Who was the other?" he asked quietly.

"Jeremy...Tsia called and told me. She's on her way to the States now, along with Clyde, and Sean is in Brussels with hsi family, but we think he's hunting us down."

"So you could be next?" he gulped, praying it wasn't true.

Emily slowly shook her head, "I don't think so."

"May I ask why?"

"Hotch, I made him love me. I made him love someone who wasn't real, I tricked him, and worst of all, in his eyes, I took what mattered most to him. His son. He had a four year old, Declan, I took him with me and put him with a new family employed by the CIA under a new name, new security number, new everything so Doyle wouldn't find him. They told Doyle he was dead, but now, due to a mole, Doyle knows everything. He knows about JTF-12, he knows about Declan, and he knows exaclty who I am. Who Lauren Reynolds _really_ was."

"So you think you're his stressor, and so he'll kill you last?" Hotch barely got out, breathing was getting hard.

"I don't think, I-I know." she answered, standing up and walking into the kitchen so he wouldn't see her tears building up.

She heard him come up behind her and set his mug down, along with his. Emily was pleasantly surprised when he pulled her to his chest in a friendly hug. As innocent as the gesture was, it meant alot to her.

"Emily, I promise you now, no matter what, this Doyle, your rival, whatever, will not get to you."

He added the last part silently in his head,

'I swear it.'


	4. Unbreakable

**And here's the next part! Once again, I apologize for any technical errors you may find with canon, but I AM MAKING IT INTO A MASTER MOLD! MWAHAHAHAAH! Okay, enough crazy. READ ON! *kisses and shoos***

* * *

Over the course of the next few days, Emily found Hotch paying a little bit more attention to her. Whether it was a casual 'How're you doing?' or just one of his famous stares seeking her out to make sure she was safe. Emily appreciated the gesture, she really did, but she wished she'd never told him. It was going to get him killed for Christ's sake! Yet, she found herself totally unable to refuse when he asked, he just had that effect on her. Which was way she was now trying to figure out a way to _not_ breakdown in front of everyone over the stress of it all. It's like telling him made it all so real.

Emily also found herself feeling panic like she'd never had before when another unknown caller popped up on her screen. Going against her better judgment, she answered.

"Hello?" she hesitantly said, waiting for the silence to meet her.

"Emily? It's me, Tsia."

"Oh thank God, are you back in the US now?" Emily asked.

"Yes, but Doyle's gotten to Shawn."

There was a pause, Emily trying to keep her mouth from falling open, "Wha-? Are you serious? God, how long have we been on the phone?!" Emily said frantically, looking down at the screen.

"I'm with Clyde, we're at a safe house, but he doesn't think anything is safe. Hell, Brussels wasn't safe enough."

"I understand, but you guys have got to move."

"What, and run? Are you going to run again Emily?" she heard Clyde interject.

"Take me off of speaker." Emilly said through gritted teeth.

"Emily..." Tsia trailed off, looking at Clyde.

Shaking his head, he sighed. Tsia picked the phone up, taking her friend off the speaker, "Okay, Emily."

"Listen, you remember that house from our DC job, with the door?" she asked.

"Yeah."

"Go there. And Tsia-"

"Yes?"

"Don't let Clyde follow you, he can't be trusted."

"Okay." Tsia answered, hanging up.

Emily let out a deep breath, a new habit she seemed to be forming, and slid the phone into her pocket. Looking around the restroom, Emily braced herself against the counter, leaning her head down. Lifting her head to look at the mirror, she took in her appearance, the lack of sleep creating almost noticeable bags under her eyes. Brushing the hair out of her face, Emily turned to leave, when the door opened and Garcia came in.

"Oh! Emily!" Penelope greeted, a little surprised.

"Hey, Pen." Emily offered a small smile.

"Are you okay?" Garcia wondered aloud.

"I'm fine." Emily answered shortly, trying to relax her defensive posture.

"I mean, I'm no profiler, but I can tell something's-"

"Don't start." Emily spat harshly, immediately regretting it.

"Oh, I-I-I'm sorry, Emily, I didn't mean to-"Garcia stuttered out.

"No, you're fine, it's just me. I..." the dark haired agent tried to soothe her friend.

"Oh em gee, Em are you pregs?" Penelope asked incredulously.

"No, no, no, I'm not pregs, it's just I haven't been sleeping." Emily responded, a chuckle escaping her mouth.

"Wanna talk?" Pen offered, concern written all over her face.

"Well..." Emily trailed off, trying to think of something. Her mind stopped on a dream and she continued, "I keep having this nightmare. A re-occurring nightmare, actually. And in it, I see this little dark-haired girl at the top of this hill. I try and get to her, but every step I take, the hill gets steeper and steeper and steeper. When I finally get to the top, she's gone, but I can see the what the world does to someone who only sees beauty in it." Emily paused, looking back up at Garcia.

"Someone like you." she finished.

"Oh." Penelope said, unsure of what to say.

"I guess I just never really thanked you for being able to make me smile whenever I need it. Thanks, PG." Emily smiled, pulling Garcia into a hug.

"Oh, you're welcome, Em." Garcia replied.

Both agents turned when Seaver opened the door, almost turning in leaving when she saw they were in the middle of something, but both agents assured her it was okay.

"Uh, Hotch wants us all in the conference room." Seaver informed them, before timidly shutting the door, leaving the Emily and Garcia to themselves.

.oO0Oo.

"Have you heard from your European contacts, Prentiss?" Hotch asked, seeking her eyes out in the conference room.

"Yeah, they're supposed to send me a file soon." Emily answered, looking up from her PDA.

The team went through different MO's and victimology for another fifteen minutes, discussing the profile. Emily could barely concentrate, her thoughts kept wandering to Doyle.

"Reid is looking into his life, anyone he had contact with." JJ announced, walking into the room.

Emily stilled and looked up, the action not going unnoticed by Hotch.

"He said that he can try and have Garcia pull camera footage from the SVUs, apparently they record everything." JJ continued.

Once again, Emily gulped, the room suddenly getting hot. Hotch walked over to her and then out of the room.

"Prentiss, a word?" he called out.

Emily walked into the hall, meeting his eye.

"Are you okay?" he asked gently.

"What if they find out, Hotch? What if my fucking face pops up on those tapes? How will I explain that to them?!" Emily responded, on the verge of tears.

"Hey, we'll deal with this together, it'll work out. Trust me."

"Okay, Hotch. Thanks." Emily said, giving him a small smile before they both returned to the conference room.

.oO0Oo.

Tsia walked out of the safe house slowly, mindful of her surroundings. Walking down the streets of DC, she tried to take the paths less traveled on.

Coming to the apartment building, Tsia buzzed the door, and walked in as it opened. Making her way up the several staircases and looking behind her for signs of Clyde, she counted the rooms to the one she was looking for.

"Okay...peephole." she sighed, looking for the one that she could see through.

A double-sided one specially installed for their mission.

"Got ya." Tsia breathed out.

Staring into the peephole she saw a figure move, and then the body on the floor.

"What the-" Tsia began.

She never finished however, her body dropped to the floor lifeless. A bullet-hole in the middle of her forehead.

Opening the door, Doyle stepped out of the DC apartment, and over the now lifeless body of Tsia Moseley.

.oO0Oo.

Hotch picked up his ringing cell phone and held it to his ear. Emily watched as his face fell and he nodded, turning to face the corner.

"Okay..yeah...got it...we'll send someone over.." he said, having the quiet conversation on the phone.

Turning to the team, he made his announcement. "There's been a double murder, same MO, in an apartment on-"

Emily stopped listening as time stood still for her. It was Tsia. It had to be. She kicked that voice down, it the odds were in that choice's favor, but she clung to what little shreds of hope she had left that it wasn't her friend.

"Uhm, descriptions?" Emily asked, finding her voice.

"An unidentified male with a shamrock tattoo on his wrist and a middle-aged woman, uh, curlyish brown hair." Hotch told her, sympathy written on his face.

"Morgan, go check it out, and take Prentiss with you."

Emily offered him a small nod of thankfulness and stood to leave.

.oO0Oo.

The drive over to the complex was a quiet one. Emily stared out the window as Morgan drove.

"Why didn't you take the tunnel?" Emily asked in a slightly catty tone.

"I don't know, why?"

"Because sixth street's going to be full of traffic." Emily spat.

"Why are you in a hurry? We'll get there." Derek said, rolling his eyes.

"Mhmm."

"You should trust people more, you know?"

"What do you mean? I trust people!" Emily responded, becoming defensive.

"No, you don't. And I get it, I really do. Every time you've let someone in and gave them your trust, they've walked away or let you down. I understand that, Emily. But I'm your partner and you can trust me with anything, no matter how big or how small. It's not going to change how I see you, Princess." Morgan told her, casting a glance in her direction.

"I do trust you Morgan, really."

"Okay."

"But profile me again and you're dead, okay?" Emily told him, her tone half serious, half joking.

Once they got there, Emily hopped out and wandered up the stairs, memories hitting her like a whirlwind.

Then she saw the body.

And once again, the sudden urge to puke overtook her for the s_econd_ time that day as she stared down at Tsia's dead body. Morgan was inside checking the man's body, oblivious to his partner. Ducking her head in a quick prayer, Emily took a moment for Tsia before regaining her professionalism.

"We still can't ID him, the only thing is the tattoo like the one on the kid that shot at us." Derek announced, walking out of the apartment.

"I need some air." Emily said quickly, walking outside.

Leaning up against a fence to an alleyway, Emily let out what little food she had in her stomach until she was just dry-heaving. Images of the hole in Tsia's head permeating her brain.

Wiping her hand with her mouth, she turned to go back inside, but instead found her partner waiting for her.

"You okay?" he asked, concern etching his strong face.

"Yeah, yeah, I think the flu's going around." she lied.

"Whatever you say, Princess. Hotch wants us back at the station."

"Can we stop by my apartment on the way back?"

"Hotch said to be quick, they're about to give the profile."

"There's puke on my shoes and I think my pants, please." Emily pleaded, looking miserable.

"God, if you absolutely insist on having clean clothes, I suppose we can stop." Morgan smiled, opening the car door for her.

.oO0Oo.

Ian Doyle watched as Emily crossed the street into her apartment.

"Why don't you just take her out now? It'd be easy." one of his partners asked in a thick, Irish accent.

"No, her time will come." Doyle answered calmly.

"The DCPD is setting up roadblocks all around, if she's the reason we don't get out-"

"It'll be fine. Let's go." Doyle interrupted, getting in the car and slamming the door.

* * *

Emily changed her clothes and shoes, setting her dirty boots in the bathtub and her dirty clothes in the washer. Walking over to her television, Emily knelt down, popping open the bottom. Typing in the security code, Emily grabbed a little packet out from beneath all the others. She poured out the golden necklace, examining the ring one last time before she walked into her bathroom and flushed it down the toilet.

.oO0Oo.

Emily and Derek drove back to the BAU per Hotch's instructions. Derek kept a close eye on his partner, her behavior seeming a little off-putting, but, she'd talk when she was ready he supposed. Pulling into the lot, he and Emily hopped out of the SUV, Emily making a beeline for the door, leaving Morgan shaking his head in her wake.

Emily stood near the back as the team gave Doyle's profile, mentally checking off each thing. They were dead on. It was only a matter of time before they connected it all or found him, and she couldn't let either of those things happen. No matter what. Slowly and quietly backing out of the bullpen, she turned and walked down to the parking garage, got in her SUV, and left without a word.

.oO0Oo.

Setting the two cups of coffee on the table, Emily took a seat in one of the black terrace chairs, and took a sip of her coffee. Moving it in circles in her hands, Emily allowed her thoughts to drift away from her, time once again lost.

She screwed her eyes shut and barely let out a breath when a hand came to rest on her shoulder.

"Hello Lauren...or should I say _Emily Prentiss_."

"Doyle." Emily choked out, watching as he sat across from her. "What do you want?"

"You." he answered simply.

"I-I-"

"You took the only thing that mattered from me, and now I'm going to take what matters most to you. Your life."

"Did it ever cross your mind that I have a glock leveled at your crotch?" Emily bit out, staring at him.

"You'd never leave alive, and you know it." Doyle quipped, staring back. "I wonder how come Dave and Ashley didn't invite you to their game night...or the lovely Penelope Garcia and Agent Morgan didn't invite you to their movie? Where's the lovely blonde, Jennifer? At home with her son..a _luxury_ you _stole_ from me. Or perhaps Spencer Reid might teach you piano with the new keyboard he's currently taking home on the metro? Mhm, probably not...Now what about Agent Aaron Hotchner?" Doyle paused, watching as Emily stiffened.

"You leave him out of this." Emily said, shooting a steely look at him.

"Already replaced me, Emily? I'm sure Aaron and his son, Jack, is it? I'm sure they're glad to have you."

"They're not your problem Doyle, my team is none of your concern."

"You're right, _you _are my problem. But as for how long they stay out of it, is entirely up to you." Doyle told her, sipping his coffee.

_"Come near my team, and I will __**end**__ you."_


End file.
